Page 11 of Skull

Leigh satwith her back pressed against the wall of the small cell where they had forced her to enter. They were in a literal dungeon below some gorgeous house, but as to where they were exactly, she had no clue. For all she knew, they could still be in the United States, though she doubted it.

Most likely they were in Colombia, back to that narco-state. The woman on the phone had identified herself as Nacho’s daughter and Angel’s wife. They had only prosecuted one half of the husband-and-wife duo. Leigh planned to set things right as soon as Hazard’s team found them and took Pincho into custody. The worst-case scenario was that the seven-day deadline passed and they were killed. She doubted that Anna could pull the necessary strings. The United States never negotiated with people like Pincho. That meant she and Hazard had to work on this problem just as hard as Anna was. They had to escape from a brutal cartel with no weapons or assistance. What did Hazard’s team always say? The only easy day was yesterday.

She was not going to settle for anything less than victory. In her mind she pictured walking down the aisle with the man she loved waiting at the altar. She clung to that vision. Without him, nothing would matter. But at this moment her one and only concern was Hazard.

Leigh looked down at his ashen face. He had not moved or regained consciousness since that thug had struck him. His cheek was swollen and bruised in a mottled black and blue, and a deep gash had bled. Dried blood still stained his face. Gently, she brushed the stray hair from his sweaty forehead. It was hot in here.

“Archer?” she said softly, rubbing the uninjured side of his face. He stirred, and her heart leaped. “Babe? Wake up. Please, wake up. You’re scaring the shit out of me.” Her voice trembled with fear. She drew a deep, steadying breath. She had to be strong for both of them.

His eyes fluttered open as he stared up at her. “What happened to my mouthy warrior?” he murmured.

Almost giddy with relief and overwhelmed by emotion, Leigh brushed his hair back again. “She fell in love, tried to give up being a US attorney, took a teaching job, and got comfortable…happy. This post-engagement party really sucks. At least I still have my ring.”

“I’ll make it up to you, Leelee. I promise. There is this little place on the water, a B&B my mom and stepdad love. I’ll take you there.”

His smile softened her heart every time he used that silly nickname. “That is a promise then. I expect flowers, scads of seafood, and lots of sex—no cold showers, though, I wouldn’t say no to some skinny dipping.”

He grinned, though his expression soon turned pained. “My butt is still recovering from the last time I tried to get you to embrace a refreshing alternative.”

“Refreshing my ass. Just so you know, I do not like being cold.”

“Noted,” he groaned, massaging his jaw. “What the hell hit me? A freight train?”

“Some asshole with the butt of his rifle pushed and shoved us into a van, and then we were loaded into a small plane. They sedated me after that, and I have no idea where we are.”

“Fuck. Who?”

“You are not going to like it.” She clamped her jaw, fighting back the rant that she knew would serve no purpose.

“I am sure,” he groaned, his eyes closing again. “Tell me.”

“Lucia “Pincho” Siachoque Alzate. She is Nacho’s daughter and Angel’s wife. She is the one who runs both cartels. Nacho hid her in the shadows, and no one knew who she was…except Jose and Astrid. They knew Nacho had a daughter. Now she is pissed that her father is dead, and we managed to prosecute her brutal husband. She wants him back, and we are her leverage.”

“Fuck me,” he whispered. “I am no help to you like this. My head is killing me. I am seeing double, and my gut is churning. Do we have any water?”

Leigh closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. That bitch had promised a doctor, but after two long hours alone, no one had come. They were also without food or water. It made Leigh realize that her welfare and Hazard’s were not high on Pincho’s list of priorities.

“No. I am sorry.”

“Whatever happens, I love you, Leelee,” he said, his silvery blue eyes growing unfocused as he closed them.

“Archer?” she pleaded. There was no answer.

She pressed his head gently away from her lap and noticed a metal cup in the corner. Picking it up on her way to the door, she shouted at the top of her lungs. The anger and fear mingled in her voice as she banged the cup against the metal door. “Hey! I want water and food. I want a doctor. Get me a doctor! Now!” The sound of the cup echoed in the small room. “Doctor! Doctor! Food! Water! Doctor! Water! Food!” For a full fifteen minutes she screamed until someone banged on the other side of the door. The sound of the lock being released made her heart pound. They were either going to meet her demands or no one would sleep tonight.

She stepped back, wanting to punch whoever came through the door. The door swung open and a man with an automatic rifle shoved her hard. She stumbled back. “Shut the hell up, bitch,” he barked in Spanish.

A soft-spoken man spoke from behind him. “No need for violence. She has strong points. Get her some food and water. If you want to keep your leverage, you should try to keep them alive.”

“Yes,patron.”

The guard glared at her, then turned and left the room while calling out orders. In the doorway stood a lean, fit older man with a neatly trimmed goatee and a full head of graying hair swept back from his handsome face. He wore a simple white shirt and khaki pants, an expensive gold watch on his wrist and a ring on his left finger. He looked both competent and kind. His warm brown eyes scanned the cell, resting on Hazard and then on her. Who was this man? It was comforting that he carried a medical bag and that they were finally going to get some food and water.

“I am grateful,” she said quietly.

“I am Hermano Alzate. I am Angel’s father.” His dark eyes hardened slightly. “And you are the ones who put my son in prison.”

Leigh stared at him in surprise, blinking rapidly. Even with this turn of events, she was grateful for his intervention. “Are you? Well, this is awkward.”

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